


serenity

by spinoffprotagonist



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Gen, Gratuitous Purple Prose, Kita-centric, POV Second Person, basically me projecting onto kita for five hundred words or so, drabble/character study
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-16
Updated: 2020-07-16
Packaged: 2021-03-04 19:16:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 588
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25311466
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spinoffprotagonist/pseuds/spinoffprotagonist
Summary: You let the rice grains spill through your fingers, smooth and translucent, irregular in shape and perfectly so. You know you are simply the by-product of yesterdays.There is this feeling in your soul and you know it well; you try to put a name to that feeling and you call it serenity.
Comments: 4
Kudos: 23





	serenity

Serenity is you, standing alone among the humid lush of rice paddy fields, wiping away the dampness of sweat with a toiling hand that has known nothing but persistence. You know this as a fact: there are as many worries in the world that exist as grains of rice that grow in these fields. Heavy mist hangs in the air, silent and still, like a guardian that's always watching over you.

(Grandmother always said there would be.)

Serenity is the sun, searing white-yellow against blue, a merciless glare that brands hard work and perseverance into your skin. The burn makes you feel alive. You smile softly, and the sun seems to burn brighter. A heat that comforts. A heat that ignites.

And it does ignite something in you, when you come back home after a long harvest day, weariness ground deep into your bones. There is a sole purpose in scrubbing yourself clean of exhaustion and sinking into the sofa. You let your eyes fall shut, your head tilt up. Exhale. You let yourself listen to the slow heartbeat of the countryside scattered in cricket-chirps and bird-trills. Inhale; your eyes flutter open. The evening sun casts thin slices of shadow through the window blinds on your arm. Dark smudges, like little brushstrokes. You turn your head and gaze through another open window.

Serenity, then, is also the sky draped over dark hills, in the moment suspended between sundown and nighttime, blazing forth colours and colours so vivid and dazzling that it steals your breath in a way that's almost heartbreaking. This is the precipice where you feel closer to the realm of spirits than men, even if you care little for the gods.

Galaxies twinkle and flash, untouchable. These are the same stars your grandmother and her ancestors have lived under. You let your fingers drift idly across the line of Orion's Belt, and in that moment you are beyond everything, and everything else.

There is a diligence in tranquility. You know this in the same way you know how long it takes to sweep the house (twelve minutes), where the mirin is stored in the cupboard (second shelf from the bottom, first bottle from the left), what time you fall asleep (seven minutes past eleven o'clock).

The television flickers with rapid-fire commentary and the cheering of crowds, fuzzing into background noise. You turn back and your eyes easily catch onto a yellow-blue blur in an old habit that cannot be so easily forgotten. Set-point. Deuce. Set-point. Score.

There is a memory, of gymnasium lights and a deadly drumbeat, of walking as a mortal among monsters. Something about it wraps around your heart, ribbonlike. Slow, slow like the winding river, unravelling. You think it might be fondness. You think it might be pride. You know that it is all that and more.

But who needs things like memories? You look at your coffee table with today's newspaper folded neatly and a cup of cooling tea. There's a framed photo of high school boys in black jerseys looking off-camera, distracted by curry and teachers and a million other things. _Kita-san. Kita-san. Shinsuke._ You feel the ghostly weight of tears and a number one jersey in your hands, all over again. They're with you and always will be.

This life is your own and shaped from steadiness. Your hard work, these memories, flux and flow. It's enough for you and all you need.

You pick up the picture, brush a finger against the frame, and you smile into the night.

**Author's Note:**

> bit more of a personal piece, I'm not sure how much of Kita I did manage to capture accurately but he's one of the characters I resonate with a lot, or at least want to be like -- he's just so balanced and has this deep rootedness to himself that's rather admirable, yknow?
> 
> I wrote this short lil thing because someone told me today that I seemed happier compared to a while back and it put me into this insanely peaceful mood all day. serenity. that's what this fic is to me.
> 
> anyway, hope this was a fun read for ya!


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